Walk With You Through The Pathless Roads
by Verdot
Summary: What do you do when you're a pawn to the rise of an empire? If you're Laguna, you look for the happy part. Part of the Empire arc. QuistisxLaguna


He doesn't like to come to the Garden often, but since it's been near permantly parked in his backyard--well, not really his, it's just that he can't bring himself to leave Esthar--he finds himself there sometimes.

Laguna had always had things come to him by luck. Some good, some bad. He was certainly reaping some of the bad now, though.

"Laguna... it's... can I stay over tonight?"

Of course, he knows why he keeps showing up. In between hoping the kids--is he really that old now?--come to their senses and give up the world, there's Quistis.

They share secrets, see.

_ooo_

First, they came in and drove out the monsters. His _son_ and all the other children like him, with some tactics that he couldn't follow. But soon Esthar was back to its bright shiny self, and _she_ asked to meet him.

Rinoa was a true double-threat, and he'd liked her instantly. Pretty as her mother, but a lot more talkative, pushy. And to see her with Squall; it was like all his hopes for the son he hadn't raised were there. _Now you're not alone._

He'd been so excited. Squall inevitably had duties to attend to, responsibilities, and Laguna had offered to let her stay in Esthar, he'd look after her. Sure, he let a Sorceress into Esthar, but he'd worked on that. Rinoa was sweet and nice, how could anyone be afraid of her? She wasn't like Adel, or Edea during her possession. She was the type of girl that other girls tried to imitate, and the kind that boys wanted to give flowers to. It didn't take long for even Esthar to be charmed by her.

She'd brought a teacher with her, and when he wasn't showing her around the country or sharing stories, she was in the library. Her teacher was her opposite, except the pretty part, because they both had that. He'd liked her instantly too, even if he got the distinct impression she thought he was silly.

_ooo_

"I haven't seen you in a while, is everything alright?" They always go out the same way, through places where there are less people. Quistis's idea, though he's not opposed. It's not really shame as much as denial.

"I lost some fa--friends. Resistance is building up." She mutters something else that he doesn't catch.

There's always something wrong when he touches her while they're in the Garden, but he never liked that look she gets when she's playing Brave Soldier. He knows it's all crap anyway, because he's a pawn too. Nobody likes feeling powerless, nobody likes to be played. But they both put up with it, because they care about the players.

When he hugs Quistis, he doesn't let go until she says something. Because she grew up like Squall did--tough love and stiff upper lip and no cookies before dinner. He forgave Matron, though, because he had to forgive _someone_ for it.

"...Thank you." One of his favorite things about Quistis is that she's solely attached to the Present. No lost wives or ghost singers anywhere attached to her. She even _smells_ differently from any woman he's known.

They're back to a companionable, professional distance again. Part of him wishes that reporters were still as good as he used to be, so it would come out into the open already. Maybe damage the Empire a little. They could sure use a scandal.

_ooo_

He was never sure if it had always been in her, the Caraway bit he'd forgotten about because all he saw was Julia. Maybe Julia was really like that deep down too, he'd never really known the woman. But he did know when the plan went into action.

It was the PR campaign she'd had him start.

"I don't want to have to appear in public once they know what I am. I think I should come out and admit it. You should introduce me, Laguna, you're their hero. Tell them I'm not a bad sorceress."

He'd thrown himself into it, because he hadn't had a good project since Esthar stabilized. He remembered all the posters, the speeches, and the button he used to wear. Slogans. And the scary thing was, it worked. Because he'd defeated the Last Evil Sorceress. Or so they advertised.

And then she suggested they put the presidency up for election, because he wasn't a king or a dictator. It made sense too. Nothing felt wrong about any of it. A new administration started and they kept him on as a cabinet member. He was inching towards retirement and thinking about moving out in the country somewhere, far from the glass and steel of Esthar.

Of course, then the attack happened.

_ooo_

The first thing Quistis always does when she enters his apartment is take her hair out of the clip. Then she takes off her shoes. Even relaxation is a little regimented with her, but it's strangely endearing, and the sort of rhythms in her mannerisms remind him of tides.

Low tide tonight.

"I found something that reminded me a little of you."

He's got the magpie tendency these days. The economy is strangely good in the Empire, and when Esthar isn't making weapons and magic weapons and magically shielding weapon detectors people make toys.

Laguna keeps a lot of toys. He knows Quistis is a minimalist with her desk, and usually hides the things he finds and gives her in her room, but he'll keep trying to win a spot on that clean desk. It's something to try for. His apartment is the very opposite of her desk and that of typical Garden or Estharian residents; he can't help continually picking up things, particularly colorful ones. Anything but white or chrome.

"What is it?"

"Push the button."

What was a small ordinary metallic grey bird blossoms into a bird that only an artist could create, the kind that if it flew, it would cause everyone to stop and look at it as it passed. It's ridiculous and gaudy and perfectly folds up back into the rather boring bird shell with a little coaxing.

She smiles.

_ooo_

It happened on the day he was off, and he had only been in the Palace due to being a bonehead and forgetting something that he'd been asked to read. The thing he remembered most about them were the haircuts--sensible, young, uniform. They descended on the informal meeting the poor unfortunate president at the time was having and made quick work of them. Precise. Practiced. Professional.

He was hardly a military genius, or a particularly expert soldier, but he knew enough to know that they certainly were not run of the mill terrorists. They weren't terrorists at all. They had to be mercenaries.

When Rinoa walked in, Quistis a light shadow behind her, only minutes after the assassination--execution--of most of the primary government of Esthar, he knew, he _understood_ and he felt so foolish. Particularly that he _stood_ there, it had been so fast and he was just across the hall. He wouldn't have seen at all if Estharian architecture weren't so obsessed with glass and light.

Of course she looked over. He expected to see those kinds of eyes, the kind that all the crazy sorceresses got, but they were nothing like that. The same innocent looking eyes. The only thing unsettling about her was that there was almost an exuberance about her.

He knew why he'd been spared, and it almost broke his heart. Because it was for personal reasons only.

_ooo_

"How is it that you always seem to know what will make me feel better?"

He shrugs. "I have the innate knack. 'Girl has hard day at work, find silly toy'. You know, stuff like that."

The secret, the truth behind the Empire would likely die with them. And instead of feeling heavy, it felt like a comfortable tie between them. They never would have had a reason to speak to each other, had a chance to get to know one another without it.

She got the serious look then. "It's really starting to turn bad, you know. I might..."

"I know, and I worry, but... I know why. Just..." He really isn't as good with spoken words as much as he was with written ones. And he keeps meaning to pick writing back up, but he keeps putting it off.

"...Make sure I don't die for something stupid?" She does that, finishes the hard sentences for him, like the curve of her back finishes the line of his arm. Once Quistis's entry ritual is over, there's very little time when they're not in contact.

"Something like that."

Even if no one knows about them, he's happy to know that they never kiss in sorrow. Aside from the secrets and empires and intrigues, it's just like any other middle aged man meets young woman.

He can't despair if good things can still keep happening.

_ooo_

"This has been an unfortunate blow to the peace in the world we've been working so hard for. But we shouldn't mourn. We should move forward, unafraid. I've become so fond of Esthar in my time here, and in this time of crisis, I think that drastic measures should be taken to ensure stability. With your permission, and with the blessing of one of your most beloved public figures, I ask to serve you as a leader, in conjunction with the Command of SeeD."

It was a lovely speech, really, whoever wrote it. Not that Rinoa didn't have oratory skills; she delivered it perfectly. But the blond woman wringing her hands, just out of sight of the crowd clued him in. Laguna had never _lied_ about it. He couldn't, lying left him clammy and brought back that old problem he had with leg cramps. But he didn't tell, which was still not good.

Squall was only there long enough for Rinoa to introduce him before he fled back to his flying fortress.

She kept looking at him, attempting to be discrete and failing, looking so uncomfortable in her dress uniform, like it was slowly choking her. But between press and questions and all the uproar and celebration of _people_ and all the photographs he didn't get to speak to her until that evening.

Quistis was pacing in front of his motorcycle--one of those things that he kept around when being President got confining--when he was finally left to his own devices. It was getting dark, and she'd changed back into the pinkish thing that suited her better.

"I need to talk to someone." She was direct to the point it took a minute for his mind to catch up. For a fleeting moment he wondered if she was going to off him, that Rinoa had talked to Squall and he'd said, 'no, the old man doesn't matter at all to me, get rid of the liability'.

But she looked almost like she was about to cry, and he... he understood. How thoughtless of him to assume that he was the only one with a personal interest in the little dictators.

Laguna took her hand, because it had been something his mother always did when people were upset and she sure seemed to know a lot of good things. Quistis sniffed and gave his a squeeze.

"We'll talk, but... you want to take a ride first?"

And that was the beginning of the happy part.


End file.
